Stuck in Eternity
by Hannahxxcliff
Summary: Takes place several years after the season one finale leaves off. This story follows the track that Violet and Tate's relationship, or lack there of, ten years after their silence. I will be updating this every couple days, so stay tuned!
1. Chapter 1

**Stuck ****in ****Eternity**

**Chapter ****One**

The water from the dripping pipe above me dribbled onto my exposed forehead as I slowly returned from a useless afternoon nap. I glanced around the dank, cement basement and heard the ever-present sobs of Nora from the other room. There was once a time in my life, or death, when I actually pitied this woman. Unfortunately, considering the chain of events that unfolded about ten years ago, I have a hard time feeling anything but hatred for this woman. If I didn't feel so indebted to her, I wouldn't have done the unforgivable task that stole my true love away from me for eternity.

I pushed myself off the cold ground and looked up at the ceiling, knowing that two floors above me was the most radiant girl that I had ever seen. Closing my eyes, I envisioned her sweet smirk and sparkling eyes full of mystery and sorrow that had entranced me so many years ago. I longed to be with her for eternity, but as a result of my forceful relationship with her mother Violet refused to even look at me.

It had been six years since the last time I tried to approach Violet. On that day, she was wearing a baggy purple dress that she cinched with a fashionable black rope belt. I walked around the corner of the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of the birds flitting around the garden, but instead bumped into something much more beautiful.

Violet was sitting on top of the wall, reading a book and smoking a cigarette. The sunlight was lighting up her pale face and illuminating the blonde in her hair. Her beauty caught me off guard, so all I could do was stand still and stare at my lost love.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, without glancing up from her book.

"Ugh... um... I was just... and the... birds? The spring..." I managed to stammer in response, clearly unprepared to be in her presence again. It's actually quite surprising how easy it is to avoid someone for so many years, even though you are living in the same house.

"Whatever. I was leaving anyway," she shot back, dropping her cigarette onto the brick ground and stamping it out, even though she had clearly just lit it a short time ago. She gathered her things and began to walk back into the house, trying hard to keep her head down.

"Wait, Vi! I haven't seen you in, like, four years. Why can't we talk for a second? I mean, we are stuck here for eternity... We might as well get along..."

"You are the reason I'm stuck here!" she swore at me, pronouncing each consonant with such power, as if it were the only thing that mattered to her.

"Oh come on," I mumbled, feeling my temper heating up as I continued, "you know that you did that to yourself! You know it's not my goddamn fault!" I saw the vein in her neck flinch slightly as I screamed at her.

"Fuck off, Tate," she muttered as she pushed past me and continued walking into the house.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, clutching my wavy, blonde hair and accepted the knife that Violet had emotionally stabbed into my gut.

I sat on the brick half-wall and emptied a cigarette from my squished, cardboard box and lit it in one expert motion. My skin soaked in the much needed sunlight and my stresses were temporarily erased with the toxins of the cigarette. The only decent part of being dead was the guilt-free way I could smoke my cigarettes now.

I opened a book on my lap and began to fall into a happier world when I suddenly sensed him. I could feel his surprise and bit my lip, willing myself not to look up at him. If he could sense my weakness, I was convinced that he would also be able to sweep me off my feet one more time.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound as cold as possible. He responded with unintelligent mumbling that settled my nerves a little more. Knowing that he was more shy than I was gave me more strength than any cigarette could. However, I still knew that I had to get away from him as fast as possible before he found his confidence again.

"Whatever. I was leaving anyway," I muttered as I grabbed my book and threw my cigarette onto the ground, cursing myself for having wasted a perfectly good cigarette. You'd think that after four years of time to "forgive and forget" I would move on from him, but of course it's never that easy.

"Wait, Vi! I haven't seen you in, like, four years. Why can't we talk for a second? I mean, we are stuck here for eternity... We might as well get along..." The pleading tone in his voice made me want to open my arms to him, but I knew that was the wrong thing to do. I knew that by allowing him back into my life, I would be hurting my parents more than they deserve.

"You're the reason I'm stuck here!" I feebly shouted back, knowing that it was a terrible excuse to continue my silence towards him. I took my own life because I was immature and overwhelmed by curiosity. I shouldn't blame him, but my parents have drilled it into my head that it is his fault because they don't know the true story of my suicide. I mean, how could I tell them? It would break their hearts to know that they had some effect on my suicide and I would hate to see them suffer with that realization, on top of everything else, for eternity.

Looking up for the first time at him, I saw his face heating up with anger. I really should have known my thoughtless words would set him off, especially since he is probably one of the few people in this world that cares about me more than themselves.

"Oh, come on, you know that you did that to yourself! You know it's not my goddamn fault!" he shouted into my face. I quickly looked away from him, out of fear that he would see the tears in my eyes. I know understood why my initial reaction before we even started talking was fear. He wasn't an innocent, heart-broken boy. He was a monster. How could I ever even consider forgiving a guy like him? He's the type of guy who would force his dominance upon a woman. He has already done that once with my mother. I could still feel a fire of love and lust burning within my frozen heart, but every other part of me realizes his savagery.

He may have upset me with his yells, but no one upsets Violet Harmon without Hell to pay.

"Fuck off, Tate," I spit at him, stalking out of the patio and leaving him to seethe in rage alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter****Two**

_Tate_

I heard the clicking of five-inch heels on the hardwood floor above me, accented with a sharp, cruel snicker. The door opened and the heels began to descend down the stairs.

"Tate? You down here, babe? I gotta have a little chat with you," Hayden called in a subtly sarcastic tone of voice.

"What do you want, Hayden? I'm not in the mood to play around with you," I said, emerging from the shadows to speak with her. Her dark eyes, outlined in a thick, black pencil, glittered with mischief. Nothing good could come from dealing with Hayden.

"Oh, Tatey. You never want to play with me. You're the only one who doesn't," she murmured into my ear, softly tracing one finger across my chest as she clutched my shoulder with the other hand.

"Get off me," I muttered under my breath, shoving the trashy and helplessly aroused girl off of me

"Hey, no need to get all fussy! Listen, I need your help. Your little virgin girlfriend is making my life shit."

"Your death," I corrected her.

"She's always hanging on to Ben and I can never get him alone. It's pretty hard to rekindle a flame when some kid is lurking around," she explained.

"Listen, there's nothing I can do about that. I haven't talked to Violet in six years and I'm not going to be the one to break the ice," I sighed and glanced at the ground, dreaming of the way I would love to be with her again. I would love to crawl into our bed and play with her silky hair as she slept, feeling her back gently pulsing against my chest with my arms engulfing her petite frame.

"Hey, look at me!" Hayden exclaimed, forcing me to come back to reality. "You help me get my love, I help you get yours."

"Don't say that," I spit, looking up at Hayden and staring her straight in the eyes. "Violet is too good to even go near you. There's absolutely nothing you could do to help me."

"Actually, Tate, you would be surprised at how much Violet and I talk..." she murmured in her signature, seductive voice. "I've got quite a lot of access to Violet. I dare say that she and I are actually friends."

"You're a liar! Get out of here, I don't need to listen to your shit!" I shouted, visibly at unease about the idea of Hayden having any part of Violet's life.

"Fine, lover boy, but just remember, eternity is a long time..." Hayden purred as she turned and stalked back up the stairs of the basement, wiggling her butt in hopes of somehow arousing me. As if she ever could.

I leaned against the wall and let my weak legs give out from under me, collapsing back onto the cement floor I had woken up from not too long ago. I was overridden with fear that Hayden would change Violet into a monster. I knew it was irrational because Violet was the most incredible person ever and was probably only associating with Hayden because she's bored, but my greatest fear was that their friendship could ultimately cause Violet to accompany Hayden in her mischievous and poltergeist-esque activities, especially since there was going to be a new family coming into the house.

_Violet_

I paced my room, counting each step across the cold, wood floor. It was a late autumn afternoon and although it was California, there was still a draft in the room from the opened window. Nerves raked through my body as I waited for Hayden to come back up the stairs with news about Tate.

Lately, I had been considering my past with Tate and I realized that I was very unnerved by how confused Tate seemed in many aspects of his life and death. I wanted to understand why Tate committed so many murders and behaves the way he does.

Ever since I died, I have had a lot of time to fill, so I went into my father's study one day and decided to read up on psychology. Basically, I have been begging for something to keep me busy and in this stuffy house, there are only a couple options.

Although this was my excuse, in reality, I missed Tate. I missed him a lot. I missed the way he looked at me with such hope and joy, the way he taught me to stand up for myself, the way he held me, the way he nibbled on my skin, and the way he taught me to stand up for myself. There was a point in my life where he was my only light and I think I need his light again. But I want this time to be different, I want to actually learn about Tate now. Before, I had just let him fawn over me, but I am going to figure him out now. Hopefully, if I can understand him and his head, I will be able to forgive him and convince my parents to forgive him. Also, I am getting really tired of only hanging out with Hayden and my parents.

I heard her infamous stilettos click through the house and she suddenly appeared in my doorway with a sorry look on her face.

"He doesn't want to start things with you, sweetie," she whispered, glancing at me with a painfully apologetic look and approaching me with open arms for a "girlfriend hug." I sighed and crossed my arms, letting her wrap herself around me like a big sister after the family cat dies.

"It's fine... I get it. We have a rough history, I was prepared for this," I muttered with my mouth shoved against Hayden's shoulder, feeling a gentle and slightly soothing hand smooth my hair down.

"I can keep trying to talk to him, but he told me that he was scared to talk to you out of fear that you will leave him all alone again. He's totally changed now too... He was, like, asking me to have sex with him practically," she whispered, still holding me in her faux-friendly headlock. I froze, shocked by what she had just said and pushed her off of me, looking up at her with stinging, hot tears filling my eyes.

"Tell me you're lying, Hayden," I whispered through a clenched jaw, tightening my fists and glancing through the floorboards, as if Tate could actually hear me all the way downstairs.

"It's not my fault! I actually had to push him off of me once..." I couldn't believe him. I couldn't believe that pig. Every time I even consider forgiving him, he proves to me again why he shouldn't be trusted.

"Thanks, Hayden. I actually want to be alone right now," I muttered, pushing Hayden as nicely as possible, out of my bedroom and locking the door behind her. I wasn't letting him get away with this. Not this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter**** 3**

_Tate_

Walking my fingers across the granite countertop, I crossed the kitchen to look out the window at the beautiful, sunny afternoon I could only dream of and saw a u-haul approaching the house, followed by a black Cadillac. Marcy, the doomed real estate agent who was stuck with this house just like all the ghosts residing in it, exited the car and held the door open for two other girls to get out.

The girl that followed Marcy out of the car looked about 17 or 18 years old and had olive, sun-kissed skin. Unlike most girls in California, her skin wasn't the signature orange tone. Her black, wavy hair cascaded over her toned shoulders and fell to about her waist in perfectly tousled locks. Her eyes were shielded with large glasses and she was wearing a tight, dark purple dress with strappy heels that I'm almost positive I have seen Hayden wearing.

Following her was a younger girl, who looked about 10 years old. She had a similar face to her sister, volumous lips and doe eyes, but her hair was light, sandy blonde and was cut in a short bob. She clung to, what I assumed to be, her sister and smiled hopefully up at the house with one hand and tugged on her striped blue and white tunic with the other, clearly uncomfortable. Another boy climbed out of the other side of the car and looked very similar to the older girl. His dark eyes shone in the sun and he knotted his thick eyebrows together, staring pessimistically at the large house. After a long glance at the house, he popped two white headphones into his ears and returned his attention to his phone.

Two very professionally dressed adults stepped out of the front seats of the car and eyed the house before turning to Marcy, who made a gesture to follow her inside.

I could feel the house fuming with excitement and all of the inhabitants were excited for new friends, or victims. Suddenly, Marcy's fake voice rung throughout the house, as if to warn all of the ghosts inside to make themselves unknown until she leaves. Luckily for her, we were willing to listen to her warning due to everyone's excitement for the new family.

"I am so pleased to have such a promising new family move in!" Marcy cooed as she brought the family on a tour of the first floor. The mother of the family walked close to Marcy, clucking her tongue disapprovingly at various things around the house, such as the lights and the wallpaper. Her husband, on the other hand, had his arm looped around both of his daughters' necks, glancing around the house like a boy on Christmas morning. The son stayed in the back of the group, looking at his phone, clearly not concerned about the house. If he had any sense, he would pay more attention and take caution...

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I love it!" The father said as he rustled his youngest daughter's hair. "We'll take it!"

"Alexander, darling, don't be so thoughtless. To be frank, it's tacky. We would have to completely redesign it," she muttered, obviously unimpressed by the house. A few rooms away, I heard Chad, the gay man who lived in the house before the Harmons, curse this woman under his breath. Chad cared more about the appearance of this house than anything else, so it was quite the bold move to refer to Chad's work as "tacky."

"Listen to me, Kara. This house is one of the biggest on the block and it's decently priced. I know that doesn't really matter, but think of all the money we could save and invest to redesign this place. Sure, it's a little outdated, but it'll be fun. It'll give you something to do," Alexander persuaded to his wife, Kara. His eyes glittered in prospect of all the possibilities within this new house.

"Actually, full disclosure states that I have to inform you a little about the history of this house before you agree to purchase it," Marcy interrupted tentatively, "there is a long history of deaths within the house..."

"The family before us died here?" the young, blonde whispered.

"Well, no... But both families before them did," Marcy spoke solemnly.

"I guess we will have to get rid of this wall paper AND the bad spirits then!" Alexander joked, playfully shoving his blonde daughter, who continued to stare at Marcy with a look of dread on her young face.

"Wonderful!" Marcy lead Alexander and Kara into the kitchen and began to spread all of the formal documentation across the table, while the three children remained in the foyer.

"I don't want to move in here, Olivia," the fair-headed child whined quietly to her older sister, Olivia. Olivia bent down to her sister's height and gently stroked her hair in such a maternal manner that I felt my stomach tighten slightly, a feeling I only felt when thinking of Violet.

"Penny, listen to me. You will be fine. Even if it is haunted, which I doubt, Christian and I won't let anyone hurt you, understand?" she assured her sister confidently, adjusting Penny's tunic as she spoke. Olivia turned to her brother for reassurance, but he only replied with a grimace and turned his attention to his phone. Olivia's distaste for Christian showed on her sculptured face and she returned to her full height, ready to confront him for his angsty behavior.

No longer wanting to intrude on a clearly private family moment, I climbed the stairs to the second story, knowing that I wouldn't be able to slip into the basement without scaring the new family away. I quietly tiptoed up the stairs to the second story, paying close attention to my step knowing the the slightest misstep would cause a creek that would upset the young girl even more. Once I finally got to the top, I looked up and practically ran right into Violet, who was standing in the middle of the hall with her frail arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes watched me with such a flaming intensity and confidence, I blushed and stupidly opened my mouth to begin to talk to her. Immediately, she threw her hand over my mouth to silence me and dragged me into her current room and my old room. She didn't release me until the door of the room was shut, but once she did, she began lecturing me rapidly.

"Are you an idiot?!" she began, "We all want this family here and you were gonna ruin everything on the first day that they are here!"

"I was just surprised to see you," I mumbled sheepishly.

"Yeah, well you shouldn't be. You're the one who never comes to this floor of the house."

"I know, I mean... I didn't expect to see you right there!"

"Whatever," she muttered.

I didn't know how to respond to her. I didn't know where to start. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but after ten years, it was pretty hard to comfortably have a conversation with her. Luckily, I could tell that Violet was just as uncomfortable as I was by the incessant way that she tugged at her dark green sweater. The conflicting feeling read in her eyes that she was trying to hide from me.

"So should I leave...?" I asked tentatively.

"Well, right now you're kind of stuck up here until that family finishes looking around the house," Violet sighed and sat on her bed.

"Maybe now that will give us a chance to talk...?"

_Violet_

I stood at the second story balcony and watched the children of the new family talk about their concerns for the house, but I was mostly watching Tate who lurked in the corner of the foyer, also watching the children. His eyes were glued on the provocatively dressed girl, who I assumed was named Olivia. When she bent over to talk in a falsely comforting tone to the younger girl, Penny, Tate had the greatest view of her yoga toned thighs and rear. I felt my jealousy flare up for a reason that I couldn't completely understand. I looked down at my own thin legs and sighed, knowing that they were more childlike than sexy.

When I focused my attention back at the foyer, I saw that Tate was no longer in the corner, but instead he was silently creeping up the stairs towards me. I turned to escape to my room, but decided that I wouldn't run away from him anymore. Especially not in my section of the house.

I walked over to the top of the steps and stood there, crossing my arms in an attempt to show through my body language that he clearly wasn't welcome up here. Unfortunately, he didn't look up from his feet until he was at the top of the steps, thus causing him to come to a halting stop and almost fall back down the stairs. He opened his mouth to speak and without thinking, I covered his mouth with my small hand and pulled him into my bedroom.

I needed an excuse for my stupid and thoughtless behavior, so Tate wouldn't think I was trying anything on him. "Are you an idiot?! We all want this family here and you were gonna ruin everything on the first day that they are here!" I scolded in a whispered tone, uncovering his mouth slowly.

"I was just surprised to see you," he countered, running his long fingers through his shaggy hair, looking as cute and innocent as possible. I knew that it was all an act, but it still shook me up a little to see him like this. However, I quickly composed myself.

"Yeah, well you shouldn't be. You're the one who never comes to this floor of the house."

"I know, I mean... I didn't expect to see you right there!"

"Whatever," I mumbled, not exactly knowing what else to say. I didn't really have anything to be mad at him for because, well, he wasn't exactly doing anything right. I did scare him, so technically it is my fault that he was so surprised, but I wouldn't admit that out loud. Then he would end up getting some sick sort of satisfaction out of it.

"So should I leave?" he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

""Well, right now you're kind of stuck up here until that family finishes looking around the house," I sighed and collapsed onto my bed, already feeling tired out because of all the energy it took to mask my real feelings from Tate. I didn't want to be alone with him for long because I don't think I could keep up my facade, but if this family was really going to stay here, then I would have to suck it up.

"Maybe now that will give us a chance to talk...?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter****Four**

_Tate_

A silence fell upon the room, matched with an uncomfortable stillness. Violet sat rigidly on her bed, fidgeting uncomfortably. I knew that I shouldn't look at her because I'd only make her feel even more awkward, but she was so strikingly beautiful that it was physically impossible for me to avert my eyes. Finally, her trembling voice broke the silence.

"Talk about what...?" she mumbled, staring at her frail fingers as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

"Well, we haven't spoke in years, Violet. I'm sure we both have at least one story to share," I remarked with a polite smirk as I hopped onto the ground, sitting with my legs crossed. Violet got up from her bed and sat across from me in the same position, reminding me of our first conversation where we revealed our scars to each other.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," she whispered, biting at her bottom lip.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, knitting my eyes together in a look of confusion.

"I had Hayden talk to you for me and... I know... She told me what happened with you too, so I don't really know if I want to talk to you at all," Violet explain in a tone of faux power, but the sorrowful look in her eyes gave away her true feelings.

"Violet, I just don't trust Hayden! I thought you didn't either because of everything with your dad."

"Tate, that happened ten years ago! If I held grudges against everyone here, I don't know how I would survive for the rest of eternity," she spoke, finally looking up and meeting my eyes.

"So what about me? Would you forgive me?"

"What about you? Listen, I know how you've been keeping busy and I don't think I want to get involved with that," a look of hatred spread across her clear face. I didn't understand what she was talking about. For the past decade, all I've done is sit in that shitty basement, dreaming of her. Why would something like that upset her?

"Listen to me, Vi. I don't know what you think I've been up to, but I assure you; it's not true," I consoled in my most heartfelt tone. I haven't been this close to Violet in years and I wasn't about to lose her again.

"Plus I saw the way you were watching that new girl," she continued, "I saw you looking straight at her... well, you know," Violet mumbled.

"Violet, no! You are the only I even look at like that," I explained, leaning forward to caress her legging-clad knee. Violet shoved my hand off of her and slid herself away from me, pulling her legs up against her chest and looked down.

"I think we've talked enough for the next few years," she muttered as a tear slipped out of her closed eyes and slid down her face, taking a bit of mascara with it.

I heard footsteps walk past the door as Marcy led the family into the master bedroom. Violet tugged down on her sweater to cover her hands as she sniffled and shielded her face with her golden hair.

"You can probably leave now," Violet advised, as she stood up and opened the door of her bedroom, motioning for me to leave. I sighed and decided the best option for me would be to walk out silently, so I wouldn't upset her or disturb the family as they toured the second floor.

_Violet_

He wanted to talk. He wanted to talk...? I thought he didn't want to talk, but of course what else could we do trapped in alone in a room together for God knows how long. I mean sure, there are a lot of things we _could_ do... A lot of _activities_... But no. I shouldn't even consider things like that. There was a ghostly silence slowly filling the room as I considered all the possibile conversations he could wish to pursue. Finally, I realized that there was no way Tate would break the silence.

"Talk about what?" I asked, playing with my fingers to keep myself and my thoughts distracted. One stupid move and Tate would have me all figured out, if he didn't already.

"Well, we haven't spoke in years, Violet. I'm sure we both have at least one story to share," Tate remarked, an infamous smirk playing upon his bright lips as I sat on the ground across from him, mimicking his childish position. I looked up and got lost in the shape of his thin lips. The way the pink accents shone against his pale skin, making his lips the most noticeable part of his face. That is, next to his eyes. But I couldn't even dare to look into his eyes because if I did, I would be lost in them for eternity.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me..." I murmured, chewing, out of habit, on my chapped bottom lip. I knew it was a bad habit and my mom always yelled at me for it every time she caught me, but what was the big deal? It's not like it could kill me.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tate asked as he stared at me in complete confusion. Sometimes I could never tell if Tate was a really good liar, or just really, unfortunately lost. The slight wrinkles of confusion appeared on his brow line as he continued looking at me, trying to gain eye contact. I gave up playing into his silly, innocent boy game. Based on Hayden's information, he wasn't a good guy. Well he never was, but he's gotten much worse these last few years. All I want is a little honesty, so I might as well confess to knowing what I know and maybe he would tell me the truth, for once.

"I had Hayden talk to you for me and... I know... She told me what happened with you too, so I don't really know if I want to talk to you at all," I explained, trying to back up my words with a confidence that I was really lacking. I glanced up quickly and caught his eye, attempting to give him a serious look, but the minute I met his eyes, I was reminded of our awful past. The conviction I previously felt was lost and I felt a powerful sense of nostalgia take me over. I caught myself wishing to return to the past, when I was still ignorant to all of what Tate really was.

"Violet, I just don't trust Hayden! I thought you didn't either because of everything with your dad," Tate started to lecture me in his tone that he used every time he wasn't getting his way. The pleading sound of anger and fear in his voice frightened me slightly, but at the same time I knew that he wouldn't hurt me. He would never do that to me.

"Tate, that happened ten years ago! If I held grudges against everyone here, I don't know how I would survive for the rest of eternity," How could I tell him the truth? How could I explain that I was trying desperately to fill the hole he left in me? Hayden wasn't Tate. Not even a little. But she was one of the few people that actually talked to me outside of my family.

"So what about me? Would you forgive me?"

"What about you?! Listen, I know how you've been keeping busy and I don't think I want to get involved with that," I exploded, attempting to keep my volume hushed. No, Hayden wasn't him. But at least she wasn't a pathological liar. At least she wasn't trying to seduce her way into everyone's life out of sheer boredom and mental problems. Tate hurt me many times before, I couldn't let myself forget that. I thought that maybe he would change. Maybe a decade would give him time to think, to figure himself out. Of course, nothing like that would actually happen though.

"Listen to me, Vi. I don't know what you think I've been up to, but I assure you; it's not true," Tate coaxed. I felt my face heating up as I got even more angry. I searched through my mind for more recent excuses to get Tate to leave me alone.

"Plus I saw the way you were watching that new girl," she continued, "I saw you looking straight at her... well, you know," I felt my the bridge of my nose stiffen and my throat close as tears began to fill my eyes, but I blinked them away quickly so Tate wouldn't see.

"Violet, no! You are the only I even look at like that," Tate cooed, as my chest tightened. I couldn't believe he would even dare say something like that to me. I felt myself start to break down before I could even stop it.

His course hand reached across the space between us and gently rubbed my knee. I wanted to slap him, show him that he no longer had the right to touch me that way anymore. I also wanted to tackle him, punch him in the chest, and press my lips against his the way we used to. I wanted to stop talking and finally have him hold me as I slept and pretended everything was okay. Of course, I couldn't do any of that. I just couldn't.

"I think we've talked enough for the next few years," I mumbled as my looked down, hiding my face from him so I could finally allowing myself to cry without him getting a full view. Footsteps passed my room and continued into the master bedroom as Marcy narrated the history and design of the second floor.

"You can probably leave now," I whispered, standing up to open the door for him. I couldn't be in the same room with him any longer. As usual, he has reduced me to tears, so all I could do now was embrace the sadness alone.

_We__can__'__t__be__friends__,_ I thought, _I__can__'__t__do__this__to__myself__again__. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter****Five**

_Tate_

I walked down the hallway and pulled down the stairs leading up to the attic. The only person in the world who could possibly cheer me up right now was my brother, Beau. I climbed up the ladder swiftly and pulled the door up, making sure that it wouldn't slam back into place and disturb everyone. Quickly after I sat down on the soft, wooden floor, a small red ball was rolled my way as a hunched, disfigured boy emerged from the shadows, mumbling incomprehensible words.

"Hey Beau," I tried to say in a cheery tone, so I wouldn't upset the loneliest soul in the house, but I knew that the embarrassment of rejection lay thick in the tone of my voice. I rolled the ball back to him and sighed, knowing that the monotonous game would at least give me some time to organize my thoughts about Violet. I raked through my brain, trying to search for any clue that would explain why Violet was so damn upset with me. I had worked so hard this past decade to make sure that I did nothing to upset her. Every time a new person entered the house, I did my best to make sure I would go unnoticed, in order to prove to Violet that I was a changed person. But the way she was talking to me... it was like I was so sex-crazed maniac.

After ten minutes of rolling the ball back and forth across the floor, the door to the attic opened again and I froze. There was no way that Marcy would be taking these people into the attic, that'd just be weird. I slid into the shadows with Beau and put a finger to my lip, indicating for him to stay quiet. Finally, a recognizable face came into view from my position. Hayden.

I rushed over and helped her hurry up the ladder, so we could close the door quickly before the new family noticed her.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" I demanded.

"Looking for you, obviously," she explained in a boring voice, picking at the bed of her nails. "I heard what happened with Princess in there."

"Were you eavesdropping?! You're a goddamn creep, Hayden."

"Yeah, well at least I'm the one that Violet trusts," she smirked, mischief burning in her eyes. Hayden did something to make Violet think all that. She must have. I mean, Violet has tried just as hard to stay away from me all these years, so there's no way she could actually have seen me flirting my way around the house.

"What'd you tell her?" I asked, stepping closer to her, knowing that I could tower over her and maybe get an answer out of her.

"Maybe I mentioned you to her... maybe I didn't," Hayden leaned up closer to me, licking her lips slowly. I stood my ground. I knew what type of game she was trying to play and I was not going to play along with her.

"Did you tell Violet that I was keeping busy with you and various other girls?" I boomed, trying hard to make sure that I worded my questions correctly. Hayden was smart enough to know how to weasel her way out of anything with clever answers, but I didn't want that. I wanted the truth. Whether Hayden even knew how to tell the truth was beyond me, but it was worth a try.

"How about I show you?"

"Wha-" Hayden leaned up and pushed her cold lips against mine, lacing her pale arms around my neck and holding me against her. I tried to pull away from her, but she threw me onto an old box and climbed ontop of me, keeping her lips mashed against mine. She opened her mouth and tried to force her own tongue into my mouth, but I kept my mouth clamped shut.

After the initial shock, I found my strength again and picked up Hayden, throwing her onto the ground.

"You dumb whore," I cursed, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. I stepped over her and threw open the attic door, no longer caring about if anyone could hear me. Finally every single false accusation Violet was making made sense.

_Violet_

I collapsed back onto my worn out bed and closed my eyes, feeling the lingering burn of Tate's touch. I didn't want to push him away, but it was obvious what he wanted. He didn't plan on taking me seriously, he didn't want anything from me except some gross, perverse sexual favors. And I wasn't going to give into him.

I rolled onto my stomach and let a silent tear fall onto my pillow as the the mother and oldest daughters from the new family came into my bedroom, startling me.

"So this can be your room? It has a nice view," the mother, Kara explained, more to herself than to her daughter. "It's pretty dusty... and boring, but we can make it work. Did you have any ideas for it? Olivia?" Kara asked the stunning brunette as she walked around the room with her lips screwed together in a tight grimace.

"You know, this is the most disgusting mansion I've ever seen," Olivia spit at her mother. "We could live in the middle of Beverly Hills, but we are stuck in this shit hole."

"Your father likes it. He thinks it will bring the family closer together..." Kara spoke, clearly planning out each word before speaking it.

"She can tell that it's forced though. She knows it's her fault we had to move," Olivia muttered in her signature, cold voice. Her face had become softer though. There was a sadness in her eyes that intrigued me.

"This will be better, Olivia. We can't afford any more mistakes," Kara turned out of the room quickly, clearly upset by what her daughter had said.

If this family was trying to avoid "mistakes," they picked the wrong house.


End file.
